A Five Year Mission (Revised)
by Lost-Fading-Thoughts
Summary: (REVISED)In the middle of the five year mission, Jim Kirk is fighting a depression that he's been spiraling into since that fateful moment he shared with his First Officer during his death. Spock is battling his own demons as he starts to feel his self control over his feelings for his Captain slipping with every day that passes aboard the Enterprise. Into Darkness Spoilers! Spirk!
1. A Beginning From an End

A five year, exploratory mission.

Five years in space to explore the farthest they could go, and then some. It was a dream come true, right? It was what he'd wanted, what had been on his mind every minute of every day. He talked about nothing else for the longest time; so much so that his crew began to believe in his hope want it just as vigorously.

Then his ship had been taken away from him and the dream had been put on hold. Not even dying could bring the fantasy back to him. All he could think about while he was fighting for every last breath, for every last minute he could have were those familiar brown eyes staring back at him. Brown eyes filled with tears and pain for him.

He'd raised his hand to the glass door and pressed as firmly as was possible for he could feel himself slowly slip away. He looked up at his friend, his brother, the only person who could complete the other half of him, as a ghost of a smile played on the corners of his mouth.

Just as he watched a tear fall from the other's lash and roll down his cheek, the world had faded to black and he was gone.

There seemed to be no hope in this black void.

Jim Kirk wasn't sure how long he stood in the darkness, waiting for the inevitable "white light". His mind continued to flash images as if on a screen before him. Images of Spock's face, his eyes brimmed with tears, his bottom lip quivering with sadness and anger.

In all the time he'd known Spock, Jim had never seen such emotion expressed so freely. He'd seen the rage before but nothing so quiet expressed so loudly without saying a word. It was enough to break Jim's heart.

It hurt knowing that he caused Spock so much sadness. He felt like breaking down in the darkness, but he knew there was no point. Though he was overcome with grief over his own end, he wanted only to see Spock and his crew, his family, one last time. He knew there was no reason to be sad now. He knew he couldn't do much of anything anymore.

Spock would only say it were logical to think this way.

Jim sat down, briefly wondering how everyone else was fairing. He wondered if they had survived and were still fighting the good fight and suddenly he felt an immense warmth suddenly embrace him. He was ready to move on for he could do nothing for anyone anymore.

Jim shut his eyes and took a deep, bone rattling breath. This was the end.

Soft beeps and clicks of working machinery woke Jim from his unpleasant memory. He shook himself out of the trance, goosebumps rising on his arms and the back of his neck. He'd spent too long standing in front of the radioactive engine chamber again, his mind wandering back to the horrible moment that occurred roughly three years ago.

Three years.

Had it really been that long?

The first year was a blur of recovery, for himself and his ship, but the two years he'd spent on the newly patched Enterprise seemed like it all happened yesterday.

Sighing, Jim recalled just how exhausted he felt. He must have frequented this spot more times then he could count. He'd simply gone on another late night walk to clear his overworked mind, but he ended up here.

He always ended up here.

He could probably could've spent hours, and most likely had, just standing at this door and looking down to where he once spent the last few minutes of his life, struggling to breath and hold on.

It was a scary thought, to be standing on the other side looking in, but he actually felt peaceful at the same time. His feet seemed grounded and his mind was calm, knowing that he stood where Spock had stood. It meant that he was safe.

He reminded himself, yet again, that he wasn't dead, and that this awful memory was just that; a memory. Jim shook his head and dispelled the flashback for the night, turning on his heel to make his way back across the ship.

Scotty, who at first fretted over his Captain spending long periods of time by the radiation chamber, was now accustomed to Jim's late night roaming. He nodded once to Jim as he left and fell back into a light slumber.

Jim imaged that if he were back on Earth, in Iowa, he would have seen the sun rising over the horizon by now. He'd spent many sleepless nights in his youth to know when time passed well into the next day. He made a mental note to watch a sunrise again once they docked back on Earth.

Smiling to himself as he reached his quarters, Jim tapped in the passcode to unlock the door, ready to pile under his covers for a few hours of shut eye. Though he was barely sleeping, a few hours was just what he needed to pass for a functioning captain.

The small wall mirror that hung by the door begged to differ though, offering Jim a glance at his disheveled appearance. Sure he looked the part of a Captain, with his yellow shirt, black undershirt, and regulation black slacks, but his hair lay tousled in permanent bed head and his face lay a bit unshaven. The five o'clock shadow clung to his boyish features, giving way to a glimpse into his future. He felt older then he looked.

The only good thing he still admired about himself were his eyes. Those baby blues still sat vibrantly in his head, bursting with color that at times contrasted with his pale and unkempt visage. He could see all the thoughts swirling around in his mind through those blue portals and wondered if everyone else could see it too.

Sighing, Jim ran hand through his hair, tired and exhausted not just from a lack of sleep. He felt too often the doldrums of his depressing thoughts pressing firmly against him. They weighed him down until he was practically helpless. There were days in which he wasn't sure he could get out of bed, but he had everyone else to think about. He had a responsibility to his crew, to his ship, to his friends, but some days he was just sad and when he could find the time, he let himself feel it.

He sighed again and sauntered away from the mirror and from his thoughts. His bed called his name and his brain called for rest. He kicked off his shoes, undressed to his briefs, and clambered onto the bed. He rolled around until he was something of a caterpillar with his covers. He shut his eyes and finally let sleep take him, all the pent up negative energy deflating from him.

An alarm clocked buzzed annoyingly off in the distance, and like most mornings, Jim regretted setting up the alarm clock on the other side of the room. It served its purpose though, continually buzzing until Jim got up and crossed the room to shut it off.

This morning was proving a bit too tough to even roll over, but Jim was cold, his cocoon of covers having fallen to the floor. He groaned and peeked open a sleepy eye. The alarm had been going off for at least ten minutes, which meant he was already late to jumping in the shower. He silently wished the alarm would just go off on its own, lending him a break as if to say sleep was better than anything he'd had to face that day.

Groaning again and knowing that that wasn't going to happen, Jim rolled over and lay halfway off the bed, his feet planted on the ground but his upper half still laying on the mattress.

Something inside told him to forget about his duties as captain, to stay in bed where there were no problems. No paperwork, no crew, no worries about the safeties of other. All the bed cared about was Jim's inability to find comfort long enough for a full night's rest. It tried on many occasions to assuage him of the deep depression he'd sunk so far into, but no, that was not to be.

He was Captain of the Enterprise.

He was in deep space with people who cared about him, on a ship he had grown to call home. If it was all he ever wanted then why did this nagging feeling in the back of his mind repeatedly tell him that he just wasn't complete. It reminded him constantly that he wasn't actually a whole person yet. Something was missing, like a piece to an impossible puzzle. All he could think about were where those brown eyes fit.

Sitting up straight, Jim shook his head, trying to make the visions of his death disappear. Though the thought was constantly burning in the back of his mind, it always fought with the image of Spock and on some level kept him feeling balanced. It made him feel that maybe he was just as important to others as they were to him.

His communicator chirped next to him on the small bedside table. Jim reached over and grabbed it, flipping it open. "Mn..hello?" He grumbled, his voice scratchy and deep.

"Captain, your presence is required in sick bay. Dr. McCoy has informed me that we are due for our physicals." Spock had probably been awake for a while now, from the sound of his voice. To others he may have sounded the same old monotonous Vulcan but Jim could hear how refreshed the other sounded. He wondered if he should start meditating. Maybe it would help him sleep better.

"Yeah, sure." Jim sighed, standing to stretch the stretch of the gods. "I'll be there in a bit. Gotta jump in the shower real quick." Closing the communicator, he made his way first to turn the alarm clock off, then dragged himself into the bathroom. He chose to forgo looking in the mirror this time, turning the shower on. Without waiting he jumped into the cold water to help surprise himself awake.

He'd slept a total of two hours. Two good hours of dreamless sleep, which didn't happen very often. He hoped that the cold shower would help wash away any look of exhaustion he had. He was sure that if Bones saw it all he'd probably confine Jim to an uncomfortable sick bay bed or stick him with another annoying hypospray.

Jim leaned his head against the cool tile of the shower, waiting for the water to finally warm up. He shivered, goosebumps rising over his entire body. It was a good way to remind him he was still alive.

* * *

Spock closed his communicator and rose from the couch in his living quarters. He'd risen early this morning, finding that he didn't need as much sleep as he thought, and spent it meditating. He briefly stopped to take a shower and answer a few messages on his PADD but ended up ultimately parking it on the couch and letting his mind wander.

Normally his mind was clear and he was able to bring himself to a sense of peace to help start the day, but today it seemed to take everything he had to just sit still. It was rare for Spock to be so anxious or distracted but today was an unpleasant anniversary of sorts.

It was two years ago today that Spock and Nyota ended their relationship. They weren't given any time to actually grieve the loss of it though, neither wanting to abandon the Enterprise, but if there was any hint to a friendship afterwards, it was gone now.

Sure they tried to keep it professional for the crew's sake but it only lasted for so long before either gave each other awkward glances and or spoke to each other in strained tones. Spock had eventually begun to ignore Nyota completely once they were off the bridge and soon he'd started spending most of his time alone in his room.

He really wasn't trying to isolate himself but he figured it was better to be alone most of the time than to deal with things he'd rather not deal with. Sometimes he'd pine for company and it was then that he found himself looking to Jim for spending time with.

Blue eyes flashed before him, red-rimmed with tears and radiation poisoning. They stared up at him, pleading and begging for help, for release.

Spock could not shake off this mental picture. Before he'd been able to push it back and focus on other things but the more time he spent alone, the more his mind wandered and the more he thought of Jim.

The part of him that was his humanity craved the bittersweet memory, made him want to swim in the morbidity of the moment where he thought he'd lost the one person who mattered most to him. Everything had fallen from his control. He was helpless to rescue Jim, the man who sacrificed his life to save so many others.

It was difficult for him to emote as easily as he did during the death of James T. Kirk. He'd felt something with Nyota or he never would have pursued a relationship with her. He'd never felt it at this volume though, or for another man for that matter. It was strange, at first, to think that he could ever bring himself to feel this way for Jim, seeing as how they'd started off on the wrong foot. As time went on though, Spock started to notice little things here and there about the notorious trouble maker.

It was easy to say that Jim had a knack for finding danger in the dark, but along with being a magnet for trouble came a sense of honor. Jim would never leave a friend behind, even when the odds seemed stacked against them. He'd risked his own life to make sure that anyone he could save, he would.

There was something to admire in that. Before Spock even had a moment to truly realize how he felt about the man, Jim had sealed himself behind that glass door and lay dying, holding Spock's gaze as his last lifeline.

He knew at that exact moment, watching Jim's hand slip off the door, that he loved him. It swelled inside him, filled him with a lightness and heaviness all at once. When Jim's vision faltered and his chest stopped rising and falling, Spock's rage enveloped him and he knew he needed to hurt someone, to make someone else feel the pain that he was feeling.

A knock at the door broke Spock from his temporary distraction and he realized he'd just been standing in the middle of the room for some time. He answered it to find Jim standing there, adjusting his yellow shirt.

Jim flashed a smile at Spock, grinning from ear to ear. "Ready? I figured we'd get this done with as soon as possible so we can grab a bite to eat in the mess hall. You up for some bad tasting coffee?"

Spock tilted his head ever so slightly. "I have never been one for coffee, Captain, but I will still accompany you if there is time." Jim clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder, a familiar touch the Vulcan had grown fond of. The door behind slid shut as they made their way to the turbo lift.

The hallways were particularly quiet this morning, so quiet that the sounds their boots made on the floor were pounding just slightly louder then normal. It seemed to match the intensity with which the pounding inside his chest made.

He'd been successful in the first year, to keep his feelings for Jim in check. He'd been easily distracted with trying to make things civil and less awkward around Nyota, but recently all he seemed to want to do was spend time with Jim while also wanting to simultaneously spend more time alone in his room.

Some days he was sure he wasn't even a fraction of Vulcan anymore.

They'd reached the turbo lift and were on their way down to sick bay to see Bones, the silence between them was even more noticeable to Spock. He heard Jim yawn and peeked over to see his Captain leaning against the wall of the lift, his eyes closed.

Spock noted he was clean shaven and his hair wasn't as messy as it appeared some days but what was different from this normality was Jim's flushed face and his slouched posture, giving way to a lie that sat underneath the cheerful facade.

He opened his mouth to comment on it but the doors swished open and there stood Bones with an especially grumpy look on his face. Jim's eyes snapped open and a grin plastered itself on his face once more. He hopped out and wrapped an arm around Bones' shoulders, jostling him slightly.

"Mornin' Bones!" Jim chirped.

Spock couldn't help but tense slightly. Something in the way Jim gripped Dr. McCoy's shoulders bothered him a little but he tried not to show it as he stepped off the lift after Jim. It wasn't as if he felt threatened by the other but rather of the intimacy they shared in their friendship. Things would of course be different between Jim and Spock then they were for Jim and McCoy. They were simply better friends and Spock slightly hated them for it.

Grumbling, Bones shook Jim off of him and turned to walk back to the sick bay exam room. "Yeah, yeah. A perfect morning for inspecting other men's bodies. Come on." He gestured, nodding towards the exam table. "Park it Jim."

As Bones started to run his scanner over the Captain, Spock stood off to the side to await his turn. Quite instantly and without warning, his mind began to wander and though his eyes were watching the scanner make small circles around Jim's head, then chin, then chest, his brain was busy coming up with intimate thoughts of wishing to be that scanner.

Spock caught himself before his eyes followed the scanner even further and shook his head just barely an inch. He mentally kicked himself for letting himself slip into daydreaming so easily.

Jim was done now and had hopped off the bed with as much enthusiasm as he had to hop on. Spock calmly walked over and sat down on the same spot. He stared straight ahead as the scanner began making circles around his own head.

He could see Jim in his peripheral, picking things up and putting them back down when McCoy chided him for touching them. He saw Jim pout and Spock remarked how he looked a few years younger with that simple facial gesture. Somewhere in his mind he made a note of wanting to see Jim make that face again for it bordered on the line of cute.

Spock then made another mental note that he should cease this note taking before someone started to notice. All he had to do was make it to the bridge and then thoughts of Jim would wipe clean from his mind, leaving way for him to focus on his work.

"Alright." Bones sighed and set down his scanner. Spock stood, adjusting his blue shirt, and placed his hands behind his back. "Spock, you're good to go as always." He turned on his heel, glaring a little at Jim. "You on the other hand, other then what the scanner can tell me, I can just tell by looking at you that you still haven't been sleeping. What did I tell you about walking around so late at night? If you need someone to talk to, I can arrange that."

Jim bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his feet. He started to blurt out any excuse he could find for not wanting to talk to anyone but Spock didn't hear much of it. His mind started to wander for what seemed like the millionth time that morning.

He had no idea that Jim was suffering bouts of insomnia. Sure he had noticed that Jim seemed a bit more exhausted recently but what exactly could he see while holding himself up in his own room for a majority of his day? Somewhere inside he was angry at himself for not noticing it sooner or as well as McCoy had by just looking at Jim. He could hear the conversation fluttering in and out of his awareness but he was still so lost in his thoughts that when Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder, he wasn't prepared for it and jumped a fraction of an inch.

Bones had been facing away, thankfully, so only Jim noticed the smallest movement Spock had made. He stopped for a moment to stare at Spock, not sure if he was waiting for the other or himself to speak first.

Spock raised a brow and turned his head, his best way of hiding what had just happened. "My apologies, Captain. I was merely calculating the time it would take us to walk down to the mess hall before our shifts were to start. I am sorry for being so distracted." He threw out the only thing he thought would work but he saw in Jim's eyes that he knew it was a lie too.

Mentally kicking himself, Spock tilted the corners of his mouth up slightly, the best he could do for a smile. Jim slowly but surely grinned back, that same damnable grin that Spock had grown strongly fond of. No other emotion on the Captain's face compared to the glow that grin made.

"It'll be fine if we're a little late." Jim commented before turning to thank Bones for that 'wonderful insight into his sleeping habits and how to fix them'. "Come on, let's get going." He nodded towards the lift and waited for Spock to join him at his side.


	2. Too Many Things

"Good work today guys. Let's all get some sleep and keep pushing onward tomorrow."

Jim nearly vaulted out of his Captain's chair, passing by to pat the backs of Chekov and Sulu as he tried his best to hurry off the bridge. He stopped abruptly though, as the door swished open, his eye catching Spock staring at his screen a little too intensely. His gaze shifted slightly over to where Uhura sat and noticed she too was staring a bit too profoundly, except her eyes were glued on Spock.

A golden brow rose just in time for Uhura's eyes to catch his own.

Uhura huffed and shot up, brushing past Jim through the door and out into the hallway. Jim's eyes followed her, the same brow still risen, wondering what exactly had her so upset.

"Captain."

Jim nearly jumped out of his boots. He turned to find Spock's face inches from his own.

Brown eyes slid a fraction to look behind Jim at Uhura's retreating form. "Did you require anything else from the bridge?" He asked, his eyes sliding back to look Jim right into his.

Jim shook his head slowly, watching Spock closely. "N-no…" He cleared his throat, taking a step back to put a little bit more space between them. "No, Mr. Spock. I don't need anything else. Would you like to join me in a walk, though?" He had no idea where he was going with this but he could feel and hear the tension in Spock's simple question and for some reason wanted to make it go away.

The question caught Spock a bit off guard. He took a second to let it sink in before he answered, tilting his head in slight amusement. "Of course, Captain."

"Great." Jim smiled as they turned and made their way to the lift. Their shoulders brushed as they rounded a corner, a touch so familiar it would have felt odd not to have happened. Both were equally and awkwardly quiet as they reached the lift, until Jim snorted and smirked in Spock's direction.

Spock watched Jim as they entered. "You seem to be in a good mood." It came out a little more hostile then he meant to and wondered if Jim had picked up on it at all.

Jim shrugged. "I'm just thinking of reasons as to why you and Uhura would be in another fight. What did you do this time?" Jim lived for this, for drama, however little it was. He turned to face Spock, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

Spock shuffled next to Jim, trying to stand straight and tall. He kept his gaze forward, fixated on the door. "Lt. Uhura and I have terminated our relationship. What you must be perceiving is the strain between her and I since we ended things two years ago." He could practically feel Jim's eyes widen and the corners of his smile start to fall. Spock wanted to look at him but he could feel those blue orbs holding him in place as if he were stone.

He wanted this humiliating moment to end.

Luckily, as soon as Jim was about to speak, the doors opened and Bones entered the lift. Spock took this opportunity to politely step out, muttering something about forgetting something in his labs, and apologized for the abrupt departure.

"Wait, Spock-" But the doors had already closed. He groaned and leaned against the wall, acutely aware of Bones staring at him curiously. He shut his eyes for a moment to collect himself, and shot up straight, turning to his friend. "Have you noticed anything -off- about Spock lately?"

Bones rose a brow and crossed his arms. "You mean besides the obvious withdrawal?" He shrugged. "No more than usual, why?"

"I don't know…" He shook his head. "I just found out that Uhura and Spock are no longer an item."

"Should it be a requirement somewhere that a Captain has to have the ability to notice what others don't?" Bones smirked, amusing himself. Jim shot him a look that quickly shot that down, so Bones crossed his arms and scowled. "They broke up two years ago, I doubt he's acting abnormal because of that."

The lift doors opened and they filed out, making their way to the Captain's quarters. "Why does it matter?" Bones asked, leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door. "You're not thinking of trying anything with Uhura are you? I'm pretty sure you'll get Spock acting odd if you do."

Jim shrugged and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Who knows?" He rolled his eyes playfully, tapping in the code to open the door. "No, I'm going to try anything with Uhura. I was just curious if I was the only one noticing something was different with Spock."

Bones snorted and followed Jim into his room, uninvited but welcomed all the same. "I think you'd be the only one to notice any change in his otherwise warm exterior."

Ah, sarcasm. Bones just couldn't go a day without it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim yelled as he walked into the adjoining room, leaving the door open ajar.

Bones took a seat on the couch. "Well, I just mean that you guys are two halves to a whole, two peas in a pod."

Jim poked his head out from the door. "Quite with the analogies, please." He begged, laughing as a book vaulted into the air and nearly missed colliding with his face.

As he leaned back to recline his aching feet, Bones looked around Jim's room. He noticed that it was just as unkempt as always, a strange setting to see when the rest of the ship had such a nice, clean look about it. When Jim came back out, dressed in a plain black t-shirt, Bones gave him one of his disappointing looks.

It made Jim stop short, any sign of amusement on his face gone. He felt like he were a deer caught in headlights. "What?"

Bones shrugged. "How are your late night walks going?"

Jim sighed with mild annoyance. There wasn't an easy way out of this conversation so he instead decided to just tell the truth. Bones was his best friend after all. He sighed again and sat down next to him on the couch.

Burying his face in his hands, Jim groaned. "Alright." He said, running his hands down his face and out of the way. "I won't lie, I'm starting to feel it all over. I'm so exhausted all the time but I just can't sleep. I get restless and I need to walk to get it out of my system."

"I know things haven't been right since you were in that coma." Bones sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I could always prescribe you something to help you sleep if you want."

Jim snorted and shook his head. "Thank you, really, but no." He smiled at Bones. "Besides, I actually kind of like the ship at night. It's quiet."

Bones looked away for a moment. "Scotty told me that you've been visiting the radiation chamber a lot. You can't still be thinking about that whole mess are you?"

Jim opened his mouth to reply when a knock at the door sounded. He was feeling oddly interrupted a lot these days. He stood nonetheless and answered the door.

It swished open to reveal Spock standing there, his composure as cool as always. He stood tall, his hands resting behind his back. Jim noticed Spock's eyes dart behind him and back again. "Mr. Spock, I thought you had something to do in the lab." He wasn't quite sure why he was annoyed but the feeling was there, scratching at the back of his mind.

If Spock had avoided talking to him in the lift and went so far as to step off of it to get away from him, than why had he even bothered coming back to stand at his door?

It took a moment but eventually Spock cleared his throat. "I apologize for my behavior. You were merely being curious, as is your nature, and I should have realized that as Captain you are required to know everything about your crew."

Jim rose a brow. "...Sure." He could have told him it was because he was bored as hell and a little drama was just the thing he needed to keep himself from going insane, but instead he shuffled his feet and nodded. "Well, thank you." He paused for a moment. "Do you want to come in?" He watched as Spock's eyes flicked behind him and back yet again, a barely noticeable act to anyone else.

Spock shook his head. "I do not wish to intrude on the time you and Dr. McCoy are spending together."

Jim heard a small hitch in Spock's voice, something akin to jealousy. It sparked something inside Jim as well and for a moment he wanted to bate Spock on. Ultimately he decided against it and smiled, nodding to hide his real motives. "Right, well thank you again, Mr. Spock."

The air felt awkward between them, stale and stiff. Jim looked down at his feet as Spock turned to leave. The door slid shut but Jim couldn't bring himself to look up until Bones cleared his throat.

Jim turned around, gesturing toward the door with a nod. "Do you see what I mean?"

Bones took a while to answer. He was busy watching Jim, noticing how Jim moved, how his face changed with complex emotions depending on who he talked to and about. "Jim, honestly, whatever you're seeing must be for your eyes only."

Jim stared off into the distance, his mind trying to find ways to justify why Spock was acting strange. He felt like he was going a little crazy. Whatever it was that he was seeing, he was going to have a lot to mull over during his walk tonight.

* * *

Spock was furious.

He wasn't exactly showing it though, so anyone walking around him or getting out of his way had no knowledge that this wasn't what Spock would do on a normal stroll through the hallway.

It was a couple of things actually, that had upset him. One, for being such a dolt as to blatantly make a show of avoiding Jim once McCoy showed up.

Two, for see McCoy sitting so casually on Jim's couch, and three for being angry at the fact of being angry at the sight of the Dr. on Jim's couch.

Why he was angry in the first place, Spock had no clue. His mind was a jumbled mess of feelings all vying to get his attention. He wasn't really upset at the Dr.'s presence, nor with how close he was to Jim. No, if he really chose to analyze it, Spock would see that he was jealous of the intimacy they shared as friends.

Spock would never really have that with Jim. Their friendship was built on, at first, distrust and humiliation and though it grew into something stronger, they were never going to get any closer.

"Commander!"

Spock snapped out of his daze to see Chekov running full speed at him from down the hallway. He moved to step out of the way but Chekov was gesturing for him to follow, not stopping his wide gait. Without thinking twice, Spock turned and followed back down the hallway he'd been previously stomping through.

Bones was just leaving Jim's quarters, rolling his eyes to another of Jim's excuses for not taking care of himself, when Chekov came around the corner and crashed into him. They both went down in a tangle of limbs, Chekov apologizing profusely as Jim tried to help untangle them.

"Chekov, what's the matter?" Jim asked, helping him to his feet.

Bones grumbled as he helped himself up, waving Spock's helpful hand away. "What the he-"

"Sir, all of our communications are out! Ve tried to hail you from ze bridge but ze ships broadcasting line is dead." He was panicking, shuffling from foot to foot and finding it hard to stand still.

Bones, who was becoming less worried about the bruise he was going to get on his leg, straightened up. "Why not just call our communicators?"

Chekov shook his head, his curls bouncing about. "No, you don't understand! Somesing is affecting our radio air waves."

Jim moved Bones out of the way, trying to get Chekov to focus on him. "Are we under attack?" He was ready to take on down the hallway to the lift when Chekov grabbed his arm.

"I don't think so, Keptin. Ve just received a message, a hail from anuzer wessel. It vas strange but right after it came through, our communications stopped dead."

"Strange?" Jim's heart started to beat in his chest, just as it always did when he embarked on an adventure. "What are you talking about, Chekov?"

Spock had stayed back, listening to what everyone was saying. He could hear the excitement rising in Jim's voice, that familiar adrenaline soaked sound. "Captain-"

"Not now, Spock. Chekov? What strange message? Who sent it?"

Chekov shook his head. "It is remarkable, Kept-"

"Chekov!"

"George Kirk, of the U.S.S. Kelwin, Keptin."

* * *

When Jim was younger and he and his older brother, Sam, still lived at home, he use to spend long hours standing in front of the mirror looking at himself. He often wondered what parts he inherited from his father and frequently referenced a photo that was much too worn by now. He'd poke and prod his face and tug on his ears and hair just to try and find any resemblance he could.

He couldn't ask his mother about him because every time he tried to bring him up, she would make some excuse not to talk about him and wave the topic away.

So he turned to his brother for answers.

Sam, was a bit tight lipped with Jim at first, not really wanting to rehash old wounds, but eventually Jim's curiosity couldn't be contained and Sam relented. He'd tell Jim as much as he could about their father, even throwing in a couple of personal memories of when George would come home on shore leave to spend time with them.

He told Jim how much their father was looking forward to Jim's birth, how excited he was upon learning that their mother was pregnant again. He told Jim about the last time he saw their father, about how he'd been sent away to a relatives house so that both his parents could do their job aboard the Kelvin. No one expected Jim to be born on the ship but Sam tried to tell Jim that it was something special, that he came just in enough time to tell their father hello.

* * *

Though they were rushing down the hall at very fast speeds, Jim's mind had almost completely shut down. Normally it would be racing and his blood would be pumping and he'd be so excited, but now it felt as if he were running towards something terrifying, something that turned his blood to sludge.

He half hoped that someone was just playing a really elaborate prank on him.

Spock's eyes were set forward but as ever they were focused on Jim. A million thoughts and concerns raced through his mind just as fast as his feet. He could see Jim's jaw set hard and his shoulders were as stiff as boards, a normal reaction to when things really hit them hard. Spock was frustrated but he steeled it away, focusing on the matter at hand.

The doors swished open before them and they all took their rightful places aboard the bridge. The previous shift replacements stood aside, allowing them their spots. Jim looked up and over at Uhura, who was already by her console, her shift replacement standing at her side.

"Lt. Uhura, play back the message."

Nyota paused, her hand hovering over the button. She took a second to look at Spock who nodded towards her, silently telling her it would be alright. "Yes Captain." She pressed the button and large view of the video displayed itself on the front window. The video was paused but they could make out a man who resembled Jim so much it was if they were looking in a mirror. The video flickered and Nyota pressed the button again to play it.


End file.
